The Sound of Snow

It snowed seven inches on Sunday night, surprising the heck out of me. We were going to the Zoo on Saturday. I had been watching the Saturday weather like an obsessed hawk all week–scanning the web-casts daily, trying to determine if a Zoo trip would be nuts from a purely weather standpoint.It was a little. 42 degrees and breezy, it wasn’t the best temperatures for gallavanting about, marveling at rare and unusual beasts. But, in my life, I have learned I had better strike while the iron’s hot–it cools off way too quickly when one thing, then another, then another comes along.

So, we went. I loved it, walked for miles, ended up foot-sore and bone-chilled by the end of the day. I got to see a shrew–which is the cutest little creature. I cannot understand it–where did the reference to an awful woman come from? Shrews are just as cute as cute can be. Call me a shrew and I’ll throw my arms around you and kiss you for the compliment.

We drove home through rain and mixed snow, but it had cleared away by morning and I was looking forward to my day. I had a chocolate cake date with my girlfriend, Grace. She makes a mean chocolate cake.

It was rumor when first I heard of it—“Rumor has it, we’re going to get 8-10 inches of snow.”

“Suuuurrreee, we are.” I knew better than to believe. I had suffered many dissappointments in our sunny, warm VA. Snow in March? Paaalease.

Four o’clock pm it started, large moist flakes, bits of shredded coconut, dropping onto the dark brown earth below, frosting the grass with the first hints of the whipped-cream topping that was to come. Oh, wait, now I’ve slipped into thinking about the cake, the chocolate one, the one I didn’t have because this other white stuff fell thick around, the one Grace and Clarke were forced to eat for me. Thanks for the sacrifice, guys. :>

Are you wondering? Did I go out in my snowfall? Did I do all those things I imagined I would? Not all, life just doesn’t work that way. Sometimes, when the moment comes, it is enough to watch your children making snow-angels–in their bathing-suits, I might add.

I did go for my walk, though. Some things I can’t resist. I had to hear that sound, be part of the falling silence. I stood in my driveway and looked up, let the flakes fall on my face, magic from the earth and sky consumed me, I closed my eyes and heard that longed-for sound of snow.

Photograph of snow in trees by Sam Van Dyke. For one time use for “lakshmibertram.com,” all rights retained by Sam Van Dyke.